Going Back
by Trinity Is God
Summary: Oh God, back to the Bronx. What was he thinking? [on hiatus]
1. The Call

_AN:Grr at FF and their spacing issues. Its them not me, I swear. I write in microsoft word, so all that would be picked up. I think I got it as I exported it 20 times. lol. _

_Yep. Dont ask. I HAVE NO IDEA how the hell this popped into my brain. But Im gonna go with it. And yes, the other two are on their way...lol. Review, tell me whatchu think! Vamaos!_

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"_Start spreading the news, I'm leaving tonight, I've had it up to here with all your shit, New York, New York!"_

_-Madelyne Thompson, singing, -Daylight._

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"Your brotha' Sandy, I swear he's gonna get himself killed!" Sophie Cohen's voice nagged through on the other line. "I thought you said you were comin' out here to visit your dying mother!" In truth she wanted to tell him that she wasn't doing so well, but she had too much pride for that. Not her, not Sophie 'Steel' Cohen. She couldn't bend, not even for her own son.

"Ma! I am, things have been hectic lately, that's all," Sandy sighed and placed his head down on the kitchen counter. He knew she was right, and that he should schedule a visit since he had finally had a break in Kirsten's father's case.

"Its _that_ Kirsten, isn't it. She doesn't want you coming out here!" He could literally hear her 'Hmph' over the phone.

"Don't speak that way about her. And no, for the hundredth time, it's not her. I have been busy. B-U-S-Y Ma! I'm a lawyer." He felt the supportive hands of his wife gently rub his back as she passed on her way to the sink.

"Oh. The fancy law firm is keeping you away from ya motha'…." Oh God, she was laying on the accent. He could hear her seethe through the phone.

"No. It's…"

"SANFORD COHEN, stop making excuses you know how I hate them! You just don't want to come out here do you?" Now she was accusing him.

He covered the bottom of the phone with his hands and let out an audible groan. Kirsten shot him a sympathetic look and gave him a smile from across the room. He gave her a tight-lipped frown.

His mother was a bulldog and that's why she was a public defender, dying of cancer, and still a public defender.

"I do. I am. I'll look up plane tickets tonight." He hoped she couldn't hear the unenthusiasm in his voice.

Three heads shot up in his direction and his wife arched a perfect eyebrow with a look that said, _'Oh, really now?'_ She crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze.

Seth snickered at the look his mom gave his father. Ryan ducked his head down in his book, but Sandy could see his shoulders heaving up and down as he laughed.

"Good Sandy. Please, when you come out here, talk some sense into your brotha'. Honestly, I'm worried about him."

"At least you're worried about one of us, finally," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" Her voice was suspicious.

"I said, it'll be nice to see the family." He rolled his eyes.

Kirsten chuckled hearing his response, her intense gaze softening. Seth rolled his eyes. His dad, sometimes he could never say no to The Nana. His mom wasn't keen on the idea Seth could definitely see that. She hated New York, especially the Bronx. He could tell that she hated the idea ofhis father going back there even more.

Maybe she finally sensed the conversation had gone sour. "Sandy, I have to go, I'll talk to you in a bit sweetheart. Give Sethela and Ryan my best. Tell _that_ Kirsten I said hello!"

'_It must have taken her every ounce of strength to say that,'_ Sandy mused.

"Okay, Ma, I will. Bye."

He turned the phone off and set it on the counter staring at it. What the hell had he just got himself into? He hadn't been back to the Bronx in years. He hadn't exactly left on the best of terms. His mother kept talking about his brother. He didn't understand what he could possibly be getting into, but knowing him he had a knack for trouble.

He groaned again and ran a nervous hand through his dark hair; and it stood up in psychotic directions. Should he go? He didn't want to go. He could put it off some more....

He sighed.

Seth frowned.

Ryan turned in his chair and looked at him.

Kirsten squinted slightly as she must have been able to see the wheels turning in his head.

"You're going, aren't you?"

_Oh-No._ "I'm thinking about it…?"

Seth stretched yawning, "Oh look at the time, Mmm, boy I'm sleepy," and he darted from the room and away from their soon to be argument.

"Ya, me too." Ryan faked a yawn, taking Seth's hint."Goodnight."

He closed his book and sprinted off in the other direction to the safety of the pool house.

Kirsten perched a hand going on her hip, the other being placed along the counter as she leaned against it.

"Well?"

He looked at her. "Kirsten, I've got to go sometime…"

She simply stared at him. "I know that Sandy, but your mom has had how much time to call you and beg you to go out there? And she hasn't. Why? … . What's wrong with your brother?"

He shrugged defeated, his eyes intent on his hands, pulling a Kirsten and fiddling with his wedding band, a sign she knew all too well. She decided to let the topic go and try for a different approach and crossed over to him. When he looked up she was in front of him with the half calm smile that she always managed to give him when he was in a tight situation.

"You should go, but Sandy. Something just doesn't add up…. That's all I'm saying honey."

His hand couldn't help itself as it reached up to run the length of her hip, fingertips grazing soft skin where her pantsended.There was a rasp from the fabric when his hand ran up and down against it.

His wife had one hell of a gorgeous body. It was the legs and the hair. _'She has great legs,'_ he pondered, answering his own statement.

He nodded, his voice softer, which happened when his family was concerned "I was thinking that, too."

He closed his eyes when she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, calming its maddened state, soothing him as well. His other hand came up and pulled her close to him and he rested his head on her heart while she held him close. Sheplaced her chin on top of his head, an arm sliding down around his shoulders keeping him close.

"Sandy, just be careful. You know I don't like the thought of you going back there," her voice trembled with worry. He had told the stories of his miss bent youth and some of the horrible things that happened to his friends, and even him.

He nodded against her. "I will."

He pulled back looking up at her, his sea green blue eyes met the midnight nervous blue's of hers. His wife worried. It was what she did. She worried about Seth.

She worried about Ryan.

She worried what kind of trouble would befall both of them.

Now she had to worry about him too.

Back in da' Bronx, where he grew up, where people were gunned down maybe two houses down from him. Or behind a dumster. Or where he played basketball and a bullet came centimeters from hitting him.

The good ol' Bronx.

It scared the fucking shit out of him to think he had to go back there.

He smiled at her reassuringly and she bent to kiss him lightly on the lips before grabbing his hand and pulling him off the stool and towards the comfort of their bedroom.

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It was three am. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't even concentrate.

His brother?

What the hell could possibly be wrong with his little brother?

He groaned.

He glanced at the clock.

He sighed.

He looked down at her.

He sighed again.

His mother.

His brother.

He looked at the ceiling. Screw it.

He managed to nudge her on her side and he slipped out of the bedroom quietly, into the office, powering up the computer.

Double click, Internet Explorer.

'_Lets see…. Expedia? Travelocity?'_ he hummed to himself, pulling his robe tighter to ward off the chill.

T, Click, tick, click, click, backspace…click, click, spacebar accidentally, backspace, Y. Click, click, C.O.M.

Clicking on the dates he wanted to leave, and the airports he needed to fly into, he found the prices he wanted. Or rather didn't want, but was forced to choose from.

He rummaged around in his desk for his wallet and pulled out the credit card he would put the close to thousand odd-some dollar plane ticket for the following week.

"Kirsten's going to kill me," he mumbled to himself over the fact of how soon he was leaving.

"You got that right," her voice startled him so bad he quickly jumped and hunched his shoulders in defensive stance. She was amused.

Giggling, she leaned over his shoulders and read the itinerary. "The twenty-second hmm?" Her velvet voice purred in his ear as her arms locked around his chest. "You're leaving me on the twenty-second, that's in a few days…"

He nodded.

"Can't sleep?"

He shook his head again, leaning back into his chair more. She turned her head slightly, her face burrowing into his thick, dark hair and inhaling the scent of his shampoo. She loved his hair. She really loved their hair together. When she leaned down like this, the stark constrast of his pitch black to her blond was startling. They truely were an amazing couple.

His hair was soft and thread through herhands like thick silk. Her graceful fingers treaded through it again, stopping at his graying temples. She pressed a kiss there. "Come to bed Sandy, " her voice was longing, begging him.

"I can't sleep," he whined, partly because he just bought a plane ticket to a state he vowed to never go back to, and partly because he just couldn't sleep and knew he would keep her awake.

"Please? Sandy, you're going to be gone for a while…." Now it was her turn to whine. Her husband was going to be gone. She hated sleeping without him.

He chuckled and turned off the monitor, letting her hand find his in the dark and letting her lead him out of the office and into their bedroom again. He flopped on his back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for her to scoot around and get comfortable. He played with her hair absentmindedly once she sprawed out on his chest, something he did when he was nervous.

He turned his head towards her, his lips rested on her forehead. If he couldn't sleep, he could at least be still, for her sake.

Oh God, back to the Bronx. What was he thinking?


	2. The Airport

Awesome guys, I hope you like this, please review-

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"Shed a tear cause I'm missin' you, but I'm still all right to smile

-Guns N' Roses.

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The breakfast table was oddly silent that morning. No one spoke but both boys picked up on Kirsten's uneasiness and Sandy's nervous buzz. She couldn't seem to stop moving her hands twisting her wedding bands, then she placed them on the counter, or they fidgeted with her coffee cup.

Ryan pulled a Sandy and raised an eyebrow.

Sandy himself, looked amused amongst his own inability to stop his leg from moving up and down.

Seth tried to ignore it and kept slurping his juice and reading the arts and leisure section of the paper that he had claimed that morning.

Sandy broke the silence, "Boy's you get the BMW, until I come back."

Seth had an elated grin, and shot Ryan a look that said _'Sweet!'_

Sandy caught the look he cast and rose from his seat.

"First off. Just because I'm gone, does not mean you can run all over your mother. And Seth, the car is for school only. No parties, No drinking, No drinking parties with strippers, No Vegas and NO LA. In fact, you won't be going anywhere other than school, so don't ask."

"Yes father, while you're out running with the cribs Ryan and I here, will be passive and calm, graciously awaiting your return."

Sandy raised an eyebrow. "I mean it Seth. Don't you give her any grief, or I will ground you when I come back. If I call and I even hear the slightest tension in her voice, you are grounded for a month. No ANDS's IF's or BUT's. It's a done deal."

Seth gave him a look that simply stated 'duh.'

"We got it. No trouble," Ryan spoke for Seth, who always had trouble with serious conversation.

"Good," and he handed him the keys to his car.

Seth was about to protest when Ryan shot him a look. He bobbed his head in his Seth like way, biting his lower lip to keep from opening his mouth.

"You guys better get going, you're going to be late," Kirsten spoke up as her hand unconsciously rubbed her tense shoulder.

"That's mom speak for get the hell out of the house!" Seth smirked before hitting Ryan in the shoulder. He got three dark stares from the three people standing there. His dad narrowed his eyes.

"SETH!"

"Got it dad, no grief. Check." He nodded, serious this time.

"Okay," and Seth let his dad pull him into a hug.

He pulled back and reached for Ryan, "Have a nice flight," was muffled into his shoulder.

"Thanks kid," Sandy patted his back until he walked away, following Seth out the door and Ryan glanced over his shoulder and gave a small wave to Sandy, which he returned with a goofy smile and nod of his head.

He watched them go until the door closed and sighed. He groaned inwardly at flying back to New York.

He honestly did not want to go back. He didn't want to go back to the yelling, the screaming, the satire, the fighting, and the busy streets, the gunfire, the street fights. He left that twenty-odd some years ago with a vow to NEVER come back. And here he was flying back to the place he hated, flying back to the place that if he hadn't left he would probably be dead.

He knew that.

His brother, he knew his brother had to be in some sort of a mess up, whether with the courts or with some gang member-ish thing. He knew that had to be the reason and Kirsten felt that something wasn't right either. She knew his little brother was in trouble too. And her main concern was that he would get mixed up in it. He could only wonder about what would happen once he got there.

He flopped on the couch and groaned. Why the hell had he agreed to this?

He glanced at the clock, sighing as there were only three hours left before his dreaded flight to New York. He had to be at the airport two hours in advance. That left him one whole sad little lonely hour to stay here in the place that was Home.

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The airport.

Great.

Nothing better then riding around the country, heading back to New York, and having jet lag. New York and jet lag just don't mix well at all.

His wife drove the Rover to the airport, her hands held a tight knuckled grip on the steering wheel. She barely smiled at him at all. She looked more somber than he felt, if that was possible.

She said nothing as she watched the airport workers check his bags for him, and gave him his boarding pass and she wordlessly grabbed hold of his hand tightly as they walked up to the security checkpoint where she could go no farther.

"Well," he gulped, his Adams apple bobbing, "This is it."

She gave him a fake smile. "Maybe it won't be so bad."

"Yeah honey, and maybe cows really do fly."

She shrugged and frowned before reaching up over his shoulders and pulling him close. "I miss you already," she only half joking.

"Well at least you can hog the bed!"

"I do no such thing," but she appreciated his humor. She pulled back in time to see one of Sandy's reassuring smiles.

"I love you," he whispered and she returned the words of affection with passion. He kissed her deeply until someone shouted, "Get a room!" and she pulled back, blushing, but she tucked her head underneath his chin, her face burrowing itself into his chest.

"You'll call?"

He gave her a lazy grin, "Every chance I get."

She nodded her approval. "Go, go on, you're making this too hard already," he murmured as he leaned up and kissed her forehead.

"Hurry back," she leaned up and kissed him again, deeply, but quickly and hugged him one last time as she turned and headed out of the airport. He watched her go before stepping in line.

He placed his carry-on in one of the small containers, along with his wallet and cell phone, on the x-ray belt, and prepared to step through the metal detector. He hated these things. He gave the guard his boarding pass before stepping through the metal detector.

It beeped and the light above him went red.

"Sir, empty your pockets."

He did as he was told and stepped through it again.

It beeped yet again.

The guards now turned their heads towards him, he thought one even snickered.

"Sir take off your shoes and your belt please," he handed it to one of the security guards and walked around and stepped through the metal detector again.

BEEP.

RED LIGHT.

Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. The only thing he was collecting was smirks from other passengers and the guards' undivided attention.

"Sir, please remove your suit jacket, your tie and any other metallic items, such as jewelry, your watch, things of that nature."

So Sandy stripped down, no suit jacket, there was nothing in his pockets, no shoes, no watch, no tie.

Nothing.

They asked him to step around again and he did and it still beeped.

Now he was frustrated. "Sir, please step this way.

He stepped into the little box they had taped off as one of guards made him un-tuck his shirt and then proceeded to pat him down. It was rather embarrassing. The guard found nothing in his pat down and then proceeded to run the metal detector stick over him, waiting for it to beep. He stood there, legs sprawled, and arms stretched out while his hair was askew from them running through it.

Now he knew he definitely didn't want to go to New York as this had to be a sign.

Finding nothing they handed him his stuff and he proceeded to get dressed.

Again, for the second time that day.

Finally finishing he started walking towards his terminal, which was on the opposite end of the airport. _'The complete end of the fucking airport.' _He shook his head and smirked, it figured.

When he finally managed to board the plane, he was hot, sticky, his shirt was clinging to him because he had to run to make it on time and for some reason the airport and the people who zoomed on carts where no where to be found. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up again. Self conscious, he patted it back down.

He sighed when he finally sat down in the leather seat of first class, the flight attendant a gorgeous redhead offered him something to drink. He graciously accepted it and groaned when he felt the plane pull away from the gate.

He really, really did not want to go to the Bronx. At least when he was growing up, he ran around with the kids controlling the neighbor hood, now? He figured he was going to get robbed or worse. And who knew about the trouble his brother was in.

Why did he agree to this again?

He had a long flight ahead of him, and he was groggy now from the sudden dash of running through the terminals. He thought of his gorgeous wife as he closed his eyes, the way she smiled and the softness of her lips pressed against his. It gave him a little comfort, a small peace of mind amongst his unrelenting thoughts.

'_It will be over before you know it,'_ he thought to himself. It wasn't a comforting thought at all.

He could only pray it would be and his dread was all for nothing.

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